


Lava Cake & Vanilla Ice Cream

by Amaryllis14612



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Light Angst, Moving On, Not a Love Story, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:40:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29974029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaryllis14612/pseuds/Amaryllis14612
Summary: They never dared confess to each other their own foolishness, the attachment that lingered, the gazes that ablazed, on account of young pride. It was always nothing, light, dandy.Moving on should be easy, right?
Relationships: Mello | Mihael Keehl/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 1





	Lava Cake & Vanilla Ice Cream

When he begrudgingly jumped out of her window and sped off into the night on his motorcycle at 2:34 a.m. December 2nd, Rachel hadn’t known it would be the last time she would see him. She was certain at least one of them would cave and call the other first. She wasn’t wrong, per se...

The heels of her pumps clogged on the concrete tiles as she made her way towards the building she had, once, stood and gazed uncertainly. She glanced at the images of herself from behind the rose-tinted shades, the shape of her tweed coat fluttered in monotony within gray glass windows. Vehicles sped behind her, away from her destination.

She is, after all, often overdressed for the occasion.

The automatic door opened in front of her and a tall woman appeared. She extended her hand, gesturing Rachel to enter the building. She did so. When Halle Lidner gave her a blindfold and asked her to put it on, she did so. And when she felt herself being led into a small, confined space, she followed. For she never felt as if Halle Lidner had anything to hide. Throughout their conversations over the phone, to the moment they meet face-to-face for the first time, Rachel has always sensed a tone of pity barely buried under her comfortingly low, strong, professional voice. Halle Lidner had nothing to hide.

The elevator came to a halt and she was led out soon after, into a hallway that was surprisingly warm. She wished her office was ever so, but one hand clicking up can’t compete with 10 clicking down. Rachel always brings jackets to work even in August.

She heard another door open and knew she was in a room. Lidner was next to her, holding her wrist. She knew not who else was there.

“Good afternoon, Miss Rachel Leigh.” A voice spoke, calm and polite, its timbre so thinly resonated, so effortless, that it already had plans to fade out before entering her ears. “Before we proceed, I would like to ask you a few questions to be sure that you mean no harm.”

“Of course.”

“Please state your full name and birth date.”

“Rachel Leigh. Born April 24th, 1984.”

“How was your morning?”

“It was alright, nothing much.”

“You’ve arrived in New York when?”

“2 days ago. At the invitation from Agent Lidner.”

“I had invited you.” They said and Rachel swallowed her question. “Now, why have you come here?”

“I want to know what happened to my boyfriend. I believe you might have the answer.”

“How did you find us?”

“I would tell you, but my heels feel quite uncomfortable on this metal floor.”

“Gevanni, please bring Miss Leigh a seat.”

So there is another person.

Rachel sat and placed her hands in her laps. With a deep breath, she recounted how _a phone call from Japan filled her to the brim with anxiety, pushing her to restlessly dig for just a piece of thread, one that may form a clew to lead her back to ..._

_She thought about L (who she had only heard him mention fleetingly in a dream, that he’ll do what he couldn’t and surpass him or something along that line). She thought about the orphanage that he vaguely referred to from time to time. From there she remembered Kira. Mello must’ve been prompted by something to leave the orphanage. Inadequacy is impossible. Loss of a purpose is more likely. But why? Should the successor have been selected? Then why ... he doesn’t seem to think he has lost ..._

_There must have been another party that knows. It must have been the other successor._

“At that point I remember when I first started out and I was put in the project for maintenance of national security system. I saw the name SPK in one of the files. By law, we weren’t allowed to touch it but ...”

“You have hacked the system?”

“I was desperate to find something. I wanted somebody to tell me what happened.”

“Can’t you guess what happened?”

“If it was told to me, I will accept it.”

“Gevanni, Lester, the lady is not dangerous. Please leave the room.”

Rachel heard the sound of footsteps fading away behind the metal door.

“Lidner, please remove Miss Leigh’s blindfold.”

Darkness was lifted from her eyes and she blinked a few times to adjust to the intensely white screens, a figure crouched in front of them, also blindingly white.

“Nice to meet you, I am Near, although now, I should technically be L.” They said and turned around, revealing the soft rounded face of an adolescent child. Rachel would’ve guessed they were no older than fifteen, yet, the experience weighed down on their eyes. They remind her of his own. “I believe he must’ve mentioned me to you?”

“No, only briefly in fragments. I found your code name in the files.”

“Right, I didn’t think Mello would be that careless.” Near held a blonde finger puppet, which he placed on a miniature train car. “So Miss Leigh, I shall get straight to the point, Mello is dead.”

Near’s eyes followed every shift on her visage, observing her reaction. Rachel only managed a pained smile. “I had thought so. But what I wanted to know is how and why.”

“Can’t you guess?”

“...”

“I suppose you came for a good reason. He rarely spoke to you about himself did he?”

“...”

“And you thought you’d find out more about him through me?”

“...”

“Then I offer my sincerest apology, Miss Leigh, I cannot adhere to your request-”

“Near-” Lidner spoke up beside her as if to disagree.

“For these are top secret information, reserved only for parties directly involved, which you now know, Mello was.”

“I just needed things to make sense.”

“You are a smart lady, you surely can figure it out, although I wouldn’t recommend you dwelling any more time into this. It’ll only cause you unnecessary troubles.”

Rachel sat in silence, her eyes glued to the crossed thumbs in her lap, she thought back to the night of November 26th when _she caught a glimpse of the familiar jacket, its back turned to the window. How odd._

_She called him from her window but it only prompted him to take a step towards the gate. Her guts turned._

_“Wait!” She yelled, followed by the sound of her feet raining down the stairs. To his credits, he did. She stopped about a foot away and stared quizzically at his back, cloaked by his burnt orange leather jacket, his head still hidden behind the fluffy lining, though she could make out the gleam of his glowing blond hair, grazed by winter breezes. “Is something wrong?”_

_He’s never been a man of many words._

_“We can talk about it.” The chilling silence of his presence made her pull on the hems of the cardigan. “Inside.”_

_“Rachel.” She felt her ears caught on his raspy voice, the awfully rough vibration of his throat, and wondered what the hell happened in the month that he had disappeared. “Let’s end this.”_

_She wordlessly told off her beating heart and swallowed a “why,” instead, she casted her eyes to the ground and let out a sigh. “I knew this day would come, yet, I had hoped it wouldn’t be quite so soon.” But his back was still turned to her, and she’s never liked talking to a wall. “But Mello … you’ve always looked straight into my eyes.” She took a step towards him._

_When he came up to her at the counter of the bar. When they sat chatting a top his bike parked above the sleepless city. When he laid his head on her knees as the strumming of her guitar echoed out of the window into the night. And when he, in all his most bare and vulnerable, turned around. It was always his eyes, so bright, and searing hot like molten lava burning beneath the deep blue. She knew if she touched it, she’d get burnt, so she often settled for caressing his face, his cheeks, under his eyes, instead._

“Mello paid me a visit on November 26th, about a month after he disappeared for the first time. And promised he’ll be back.”

“Did you see-?”

“I don’t know how or why. But yes. It’s not important, though.”

“Did you know he was-?”

“I now do.”

“Of course.”

“I last saw him the early hours of December 2nd. I last heard from him January 26th. What has happened during that time, I need to know.”

Near took a painfully long sigh and Rachel feared his patience with her has run out.

“What do you know about the Kira case, Miss Leigh?”

“The file said it was a Death Note, yes?”

“Involving parties are no longer important. What do you know of the night of January 26th?”

“Mello was in Japan.”

“And what else?”

Rachel swallowed her grief, the words she trotted so carefully around. “He died.”

“The Kira case ended on January 28th. My agents and I were one of the few survivors.”

“And although he wasn’t technically affiliated with us,” Lidner’s warm voice turned Rachel’s face, for once, a welcoming tone permeated the atmosphere “we couldn’t have survived without his course of actions on the night of January 26th.”

“That was out of bound, Agent Lidner.” Near coldly reminded.

“I’m very sorry, Near.”

Rachel sat for a moment in contemplative silence. Near let her, busying himself with attaching little train cars, each carrying different finger puppets, none of which she recognized. A redhead stood next to the Mello puppet. By the track, though, were Near puppet, Lidner puppet, and several others.

“Do you think he died thinking he bested you?”

“I suppose I owe him something.” He partly turned his head towards her, his eyes glancing up at the ceiling as innocent as a sheep. “So yes.”

“Before he disappeared we … fought.” Rachel looked uncertainly to Halle Lidner, whose softened eyes encouraged her to go on. “I opened the window and sent him away after he has screamed at me, for the first time, “What do you know? You’ve never had to strive, _everything comes easy to you. People like you stand on top of everyone’s heads and wonder in your snobbish condescension why others can’t be as smart as you, as achieved as you, as great as you. I’m sure it feels fucking fantastic to pat yourself in the back every time you complain about others doesn’t it?”_

_Her face froze in an expression he has never seen before. It was as if the muscles on her face were desperately trying to back the anger brewing at the back of her eyes, and the hurt stewing in the depth of her throat._

_“Look, Rachel-” Mello softened his voice but before he could reach her bedside, she stood up, walked to the window, opened it and went back to her laptop without sparing him a single moment of her steely glare._

_“Close the window on your way out, it’s cold.”_

“In hindsight, I don’t think he was talking to me.”

“I don’t either.” Near placed the complete miniature train on the track built around his seating area and pressed the button, sending it running through the miniature city.

“It can’t be helped now can it?”

“No.”

Rachel sat under the shades staring in unfocused haze at the many passing vehicles, zooming past so quickly they appeared smudged. She barely noticed the waitress setting her order on the glass table. It was only until the rich, hot, hearty smell of chocolate beckoned her senses as it burst out from the pastry and melted into the cold vanilla ice cream that she snapped out of her trance.

The metal spoon carrying the freezing vanilla bite sent chills down her spine. She’s reminded of the cold that washed through her apartment and put out the fire in her hearth when his voice, made even rougher still by telephone statics, struggled through the speakers to reach her ears.

_“I’m sorry for what I said. And Rachel, I’m sorry for-”_ She never heard the end of that apology.

_“Mello?” No reply. “Mello?” The line has yet gone dead but only dead silent. “Mello? Mello? Mello?” Rachel’s own voice broke into a mere whisper._

The soft pastry stood glaring at her from the other side of the plate. It would usually have been gone at this point. When they shared the same thing at a café near her office, across the city, on top of his motorbike, from a box on her kitchen counter, at a retro diner they both frequented. It was a shame they could not do the same in New York. She sat and waited until the rest of the chocolate has drained itself from the pastry, pooling in the delicate ceramic plate, cooled.

Rachel left the sidewalk café and walked alongside the many speeding vehicles below, presumably towards somewhere important. Behind her, a cold lava cake left virtually untouched.


End file.
